Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Linked Team
by Forestfleet
Summary: "What do you do when, bluntly put, you're just a dumb, aimless teenager turned into an Axew? Amid a war of gods? What do you do when you're fighting creatures so warped, and entering places so alien, you're lost? You make friends." John has to team up with four other unlikely people to face evils he never thought could exist. And worse, for once being human, the monsters want him.
1. Chapter 1

**Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Linked Team**

 **Chapter 1: Curiosity**

 **Part 1: Initiation**

"Mystery dungeons, things that plague the world." A blue hand flipped over the page of a tome. "Twenty years ago, more mystery dungeons appeared, marking all corners of the world, bringing corruption, anger, hatred, division. Treks to other lands became treacherous."

"That's when Pokemon invented guilds, places that sent people to explore these dungeons so others didn't have to."

The figure closed the book and set it aside, before staring at Ho-Oh. A chessboard laid on the table between them. Both moved their pawns. E4, E6.

"You may think your guilds can purify dungeons and protect others. But in the end, the true denizens, coming from 'malice itself', will return."

Ho-Oh glanced at him serenely. A bubble appeared overhead, showing another point in space. It showed a teenager, black hair, brown eyes. The teenager gawked at a rainbow sparkle in front of him. The sparkle was three feet tall, and five feet wide.

"What helps protect us is people with curiosity, those thinking outside the box," Ho-Oh explained.

The teenager poked the sparkle, creating a rippling effect where his finger touched. He took his finger back.

"They will figure out a new solution, a new path! They will enlighten others, and heal those chaotic pockets of space," Ho-Oh said.

The figure gave a grin full of yellow teeth. "Alternatively, they'll question everything, and ultimately, they'll learn the truth behind your machinations, then rebel."

The teenager stuck his arm, elbow-deep, into the sparkle. The ripple effect greeted him again. He tried jerking his lanky arm out, but it was stuck. He shouted for help, only to get dragged in further. His mouth went agape, his eyes went wide. The sparkle, a portal, sucked him in.

Ho-Oh sighed. "You think yourself smarter than you really are." Ho-Oh squinted towards the cobwebs in the dusty home.

"Interesting. Is this place supposed to be cluttered by old books and webs, or is that a reflection of your miserable, grimy soul?"

The figure laughed. "You're hilarious."

Ho-Oh said, "I suppose you won't answer?"

"You won't care. Like always."

* * *

John saw black. A falling sensation overtook him, but he couldn't see anything. The falling sensation halted as he felt a fiery pain through his body, the force focused on his front.

He opened his eyes, his vision blurred, but immediately he could tell he was stomach-first on some grass. As his vision sharpened, green shapes transformed into discernable ferns and grass.

"Ughhh…" Pain throbbed in his head, potentially an aftereffect of the fall. He pushed himself up - his arms were shorter. He was shorter than the fern by a foot.

"Huh?" He examined his hands, discovering, instead, that they were paws. Green, with three digits.

To help with the search for a reflective surface, John rose up to two legs. He was still naturally bipedal. Sighing in relief, John thanked his lucky stars that he didn't need to learn how to walk like a quadruped. He pushed a couple bushes of rawst berries away and stumbled over to a pond.

In the reflection of the rippling, black pond, he saw a silhouetted figure. Peering deeper, he made out some details… and found out he was an Axew.

He backed up with a gasp. "What the-?" He took in his surroundings. He was shorter than the fern he was standing next to. He looked up. The leaves of birches and aspens covered the sky, and he could spot a half-moon. The thick darkness only let him see a few feet in front of himself.

John gulped.

"Calm down," he reassured himself.

Edging back over to the pond, he said, "Calm down, John. You've got to calm down."

Shrubs shook.

He shivered. "Just a dream. Just a dream." For confirmation, he pinched his wrist. Wincing at the sharp pain, he noted he had sharp claws.

He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again. "This isn't so bad." He turned around and checked out his tail, finding it an interesting new addition. He shook it around. "I could have been a Magikarp, or a Hoppip."

He strode away from the pond and glanced up. When he thought about it, the place didn't look that bad. Sure, the trees and bushes dwarfed him, but they were a good hiding spot - if he needed it - and the forest didn't look so bad. Maybe the darkness and the vegetation was thick, but it would become daylight at some point.

He could get used to this new perspective. He walked across the grass that reached up to his ankles.

Something, however, was off. It was night and he wasn't home...

Two blurs of black jumped from vegetation. He cringed, and watched a Sneasel and a Weavile approach him. Both smirked.

"Hey there," Sneasel said. "Mind you and I take a walk back to town? Maybe get a smoothie, or two?"

"Uhhh…" John tried to keep his breathing even, despite his pounding heart, and the adrenaline running through his veins. He tried repeatedly to formulate proper words, but none came.

"Ooh, better make sure Jade here doesn't fight," Weavile said. John blinked. Jade? She unfurled her paw, flaunting her sharp claws.

John backed up further while the two inched towards him. He turned around and ran.

He was really glad he didn't have to learn how to run on four legs.

Glancing back, they were just standing there, talking, with those same smirks.

"Sissy, can I be hot this time while you're cold?" Sneasel asked.

Weavile patted her on the head. "Of course. Anything for the birthday girl."

"Yay! Thank you!" Sneasel smiled, and dashed forward.

John focused on dodging the thick shrubbery, leaves, and branches, which continuously scratched his side. An errant root snagged his foot.

"Ow!" He stumbled, fell on all fours, only to rise up. He had to keep running.

The pursuers were quick and silent. Sneasel was closing the gap, and John ran as fast as he could. Pain entered the upper part of his ribs, then it spread to the lower parts, and entered his ankles.

Weavile, standing on the tree branches, launched a blue beam, and froze a section of the forest's floor.

John tried to halt himself, but ended up on ice anyway. He slid and kept his arms out for balance.

"W-woah!" he shouted while he moved his body around, trying to manipulate his momentum so he wouldn't fall. Fruitless. He collapsed onto his back anyway, sending a literal chill up his spine.

Sneasel moved around the icy field expertly, while Weavile jumped branch to branch.

At the end of the makeshift skating rink, John jumped off and spun to Sneasel. She glared, and jumped up. Her claws glinted in the moonlight, and for a brief second she was stuck in space. She came down, claws ready to strike him heightwise. He held his paw up defensively… and it glowed white.

The claws collided, making a clinking sound.

"Huh?" John asked, surprised. He knew how to do Scratch already?

"Hiya!" Sneasel charged with two more swipes, but he blocked with Scratch twice more.

"Stop it! What do you even want?"

"You're coming with us, Jade. Hya!" She nicked his shoulder with her claws, and he yipped. No blood, but he felt a searing pain where hit.

"Wait, stop!" Weavile hopped onto the grass from the tree branches. She cast John a suspicious look.

Sweat ran down John's forehead. He kept himself tensed, ready to attack if necessary.

"Your eyes."

"Huh?"

"They're blue. Jade's are red."

"Yeah, I'm not Jade, I'm John-"

"Shut up, don't care." She made a "zip-it" gesture and sighed. "Looks like we've got the wrong person."

Sneasel frowned. "Aw. I wanted to have some fun."

"Sorry. Maybe later." Weavile turned to John.

"Sorry for bothering you. We mistook ya for someone else. Speaking of which, have you seen Jade around here?"

"No." John rubbed his arm. All pokemon of a species looked identical to him, so he couldn't blame them, but he didn't like the idea he was going to be mistaken for a criminal while wandering through the woods.

"You should be careful," Weavile said. "Dangerous people wander Forlorn Forest."

I can tell, he thought. Do they happen to have sharp claws, icy powers, and attack without asking questions first?

Weavile and Sneasel walked away. Weavile waved. "See ya!"

John was about to ask them about their village, only for them to run off deeper into the woods. He followed, slowly. After running so hard and so long, he couldn't muster the strength to do it again.

He walked through the, now sinister-looking, forest. Shadows flowed in the moonlight like water.

Moonlight. It was morning last he remembered, not night, evening, or even afternoon.

That was his realization. He was knocked out for a long time. At least most of the day.

He sighed, collapsed onto his rump and contemplated matters. He said, "Okay. I need to get back home."

Jordan was coming over for the weekend from college, because it was his birthday, and John needed to see him. He needed to cook Bobby and Jill dinner. Mom and Dad were gonna worry. He had to get home.

He shook his head. "I've already been gone too long. Probably calling police as I speak. I've been out for over ten hours. I need to get back to…"

He paused.

He didn't need to get back to anything.

Bucket list? Never made one.

Prepare for college? Like he even knew what he was doing with his life.

Cook dinner? Please, instructions were on the back of the box.

He was going to miss milestones. Jordan would graduate and become a pokemon vet. Bobby and Jill would figure out what they wanted to be. But John himself never had dreams like that. He had all the time in the world to figure out what he would be.

He used his time _excellently_.

He woke up, ate breakfast, went to school, tried to get the best grades he could (always nearly flunking History), came back home, talked to Jordan on the phone, did his homework, did whatever else, then made everyone dinner.

He liked a lot of things, but nothing clicked with him as something he'd do for a living. He could cook, but didn't want to be a chef. He could dance, but never sought that as a passion. He could draw, but he was no artist. He was aimless.

And now it didn't matter. He had his chance. He was stuck, in another world, incapable of returning to his previous life.

He leaned against the back of the tree, sinking further to the ground. He put his paws over his face. "Oh… Arceus. I messed up, I messed up so bad," he said breathlessly.

The bushes rustled more. He said, "I'm not Jade, I'm John, go away!"

"John." The voice was hollow, and sounded like it was in his head.

John's head swiveled rapidly, threatening to pop off with all the twisting. "Who is it, who's there!?"

It oozed out of the bushes, now standing only ten feet away from John. It was dark gray and sludgy. No mouth nor nostrils visible, only red eyes with a narrow muzzle ending at a smooth point. Using its bony hands, it made a grabbing motion at him with its three elongated fingers. The fingers dripped slime, and the slime slithered back to its bird-like feet.

John retreated into some bushes. "Go away!" he shouted. He grabbed a rock, and tossed it at its snout, but the rock glanced off. The creature pushed its head past two trees, revealing massive, moose-like antlers. A long, thick tail followed it.

John got to his feet and bolted. He screamed. The behemoth chased him, but slowly.

He wasn't taking any chances, slow or not. He ran through the bushes and the woods, screaming. Two more ooze-monsters emerged from shrubs, making John pause in his tracks. He took a sharp turn right, only to avoid bumping into another monster by inches. He gasped, turned around, and ran again. The familiar aching pain from only five minutes prior reintroduced itself to his legs and ribs.

After half a minute of running, to his left was a steep decline, with a rushing river to the right. He had to keep moving forward.

Another obstacle. He saw a steep incline that was fifty-feet high, and at the top of the incline was a fallen tree log. One of "them" could've lurked behind it.

"HELP!" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Trouble?"

An Absol was next to him. The parts of her body that were supposed to be black were purple instead. He entertained the thought of her being shiny, but he doubted it.

"There are these things in the woods, these sludgy, slimy creatures, and, and, they have these antlers and-"

"Say no more. Sounds like you've got Spectre issues." The Absol stepped forward and watched as several Spectres appeared. She smiled at John. "Don't worry, they're easy."

John nodded. The air felt unbearably cold at the moment, something he attributed to these Spectres. They might've had Ghost-Type properties.

The Absol charged up a black and purple ball in her mouth before launching it. The sphere collided into the chest of one of the spectres, obliterating its abdomen, bisecting it. The two halves of the spectre withered away into smoke.

"Wh-what happened to it?" John asked.

"It's gone. They're mindless, magical constructs."

"Magical constructs," John repeated.

"You should leave. I'll hold fort." She fired more Shadow Balls at them. He had a few other questions, but he wanted to get the heck out of there first.

"How do I get up the hill?" he asked.

"Just climb. You're an Axew. You know that, right?" she teased.

"Uh… yeah! Yeah." He rubbed the back of his head. He turned to the incline and sunk his claws into the dirt. He found purchase easily.

Struggling up, he took a few deep breaths. He glanced at the fallen log, which was getting closer. He hoped Spectres couldn't climb.

Stress built up in his arms as he ascended, but the stress wasn't that bad. Halfway through, he even got a second wind, and he took full advantage of it by getting to the log. He lodged his claws into it, and hoisted himself onto his belly. Then he stood up.

He felt good for the few seconds until it rolled out from underneath him.

His eyes widened, and he lunged forward. The log rolled down the hill, forcing Absol to jump over it. The incoming log knocked several Spectres over.

"Sorry!" John shouted.

"It's okay!" she called back.

No Spectres in the immediate area. They were all behind him. He took a deep breath, and entered the dark woods once more.

* * *

He wasn't sure how long it took. Two minutes, two hours. Whatever it was, he wasn't bothered by Spectres anymore, and he found a town.

The town seemed dark. Every building was made of wood and dirt, grass and twigs. No windows had any light seeping out. He walked on a pokemon-made dirt path, with firs and birches growing around the edges, all trees three feet apart.

"Guess I came at a bad time." He snuck past the first dirt building. He didn't want to be spotted, or to spot anyone. Not too many nice people - or things - were out in the dark.

He facepalmed.

Mentally, he scolded himself over trying to hide from people, then going into a town. He associated civilization with safety and food, so it was natural to head there, but now that he was there, he realized he didn't want to be there. Wasn't this directionless thinking the same reason why he was headed nowhere in life?

"Hey!" The shout was nearby. He peered past the corner of a building.

He saw a Torchic tear past the streets, gasping. She spotted him and ran over to him.

"Hide me, hide me, hide me!" she said.

"What's going on?" John saw Houndooms, a Nidoqueen, and a Nidoking come around a corner, only a couple blocks down.

"I-I snuck out at bedtime, and now the police are after me, and you don't look familiar so I hope you don't tell anybody about this please!" She talked quickly.

He huffed and grabbed her wings "You better not be attracting police to me." He sulked over, past the street, to a maple tree, and led her to the space between the trunk and some ferns.

"Keep absolutely quiet," he said.

"You sound like you know what you're doing," Torchic whispered.

"Yeah, well, when I was younger I snuck off all the time," John muttered.

"Really? I do too."

"Shh," John said.

The police walked down the road to town. John and Torchic held their breaths. The houndooms sniffed the air.

"Nah, don't smell a thing. Brat dodged us," one houndoom said.

Nidoqueen shrugged. "Just a kid anyway." Her group left.

John released his breath. "Let's get some sleep."

"But I still wanna play-"

"Sleep," John ordered.

"My friend will wake up and notice I'm gone, then he'll tell the police, and I'll be in trouble, and it'll be all. Your. Fault." She pouted.

He smiled. "For one, you're the one who left. For two, my big brother covered for me all the time whenever we snuck out, so I know how to lie."

"Isn't lying wrong?" she asked.

"Isn't sneaking out after curfew wrong?"

"What's curfew?"

John sighed. "Never mind. Anyway, let's take a snooze."

"Fine." She frowned. "I need to register for the guild tomorrow morning anyway."

As curious as he was about the guild, he needed sleep. Apparently, being in a coma for most of the day didn't do anything to his sleep schedule. John laid back against the tree, placed his paws on his chest. Torchic nuzzled up against him.

"Good night," Torchic said.

"Night," John said and closed his eyes.

* * *

The therapist looked at his patient. He stroked his long chin and said, "Welcome. It's time we begin today's session." He put his hands on the table.

"Which is worse: Hands or feet?"

The patient responded that feet were worse.

"So, you think the feet that follow all evil are worse than the hands that direct all evil." The therapist wrote that down on a note. "Thank you." He presented to him a color wheel.

"Now, which of these colors would you say best described your morality?" The wheel had no black, white, or gray, and instead had varying shades of different colors. Greens, blues, oranges, yellows.

The patient pointed to pale purple and said that that represented his morality best.

"Excellent. So, you're logical like blues, but you still run by emotions like reds. You're a link between blue and red, logic and emotions. You think that we shouldn't trust authority blatantly, and that we should judge based on what would logically produce the most happiness. Still, you're not zealot, and acknowledge your belief system can be false."

The therapist dismissed his patient, and the patient woke up.

* * *

Author's notes:

This story is a test. The test is how hard is it to write a story and update it weekly. I see all these authors saying they'll update weekly… and they don't. They miss a week, and they quit permanently. Then they drop off the face of the earth.

Perhaps they fell into a portal like our unfortunate protagonist.

I've gotten preconceived notions, but I've realized _I have no clue_ what it's like to update weekly and if it's a sound way to write a story. However, it does have the benefit of more immediate praise and criticism. And the more scientific, but reckless, part of my mind said it could be a fun experiment.

(It's ironic I'm saying most of this will take a week since this chapter alone took 2 - 3 months of development. But that's mostly because of a procrastination that I'm hoping to tackle these upcoming weeks. If one week is too drastic, it will become two weeks.)

Finally, this fic has the potential to be very long, and I'm dividing it into five parts. Whether those parts are story-only, or if I choose to make them into "books" (different fanfics) depends on how long this first part is. If it's twenty to thirty chapters, then it will be five parts. If it's well over thirty, then it will be in books.

P.S. For those of you curious, being in a coma really wouldn't affect your sleeping schedule.


	2. Call Me a Savior

**Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Linked Team**

 **Chapter 2: Call Me a Savior**

Torchic had been moody since they woke up. She refused to speak to John, who had just made a third attempt at conversation.

"Come on, what did I even do?"

"You told me to go to bed when I was going to go meet friends. You shouldn't tell me to go to bed because I don't like it, and I couldn't play with my friends last night, now they're going to think I ditched them to go do something else!" She pouted.

John gave her an odd look. "You know, if your friends are the type of people to stay out after dark, when the police are patrolling around for curfew-breakers, chances are you don't have really good friends. If you do, and they aren't hooligans, you still shouldn't do all that stupid stuff after dark anyway. If your friends were going to jump off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge as well?"

Torchic nodded. "If they're going to jump off a bridge they have to know that there's nothing at the bottom that's dangerous. Maybe there's pillows and that's why people keep jumping off of bridges with their friends." This kid was going to make it far in life.

John facepalmed and said, "Okay. Let's just focus on getting you to the guild… whatever that is." It sounded like it was some type of club. He guessed a daycare due to the maturity of his traveling partner. Torchic reminded him slightly of his little sister Jill - a little rambunctious, not always thinking straight, and sometimes a pain in the neck.

He relaxed, and focused on the sights. The houses were well distinguished from each other. Some were tenderly crafted from wood. Others were mud-houses, doomed for destruction during the next rainy day. Some trees had nests, while others had holes that Pokemon slept in. The roads snaked around due to haphazard placing of houses.

Early morning was always John's favorite part of the day. The clouds made puffy streaks against the dark blue sky, which would brighten a few shades in the following hours. The sky went on to the horizon where there was this dome-shape building (silhouetted by the sun rising up behind it). Despite being early Summer, the temperature wasn't hot, but warm like a wool blanket.

He still wasn't used to his new height. A Pachirisu who scampered past him wasn't that much smaller than him. Meanwhile a Breloom, who would normally be shorter than him, was now towering over him. He wondered if he had the same perspective of the world when he was a kid, hidden in those wispy memories that faded with age.

A Pikachu waved at the two of them. "Hey, Torchic, it's me, Bolt!"

Torchic perked up. "Oh, hey Bolt!"

"Bolt?" John asked. He also realized he never asked Torchic for her name, and he found out she didn't have one.

Bolt grinned and waved. "I know it sounds stupid since I'm an Electric-Type and all, but my grandpa was a Mienshao and he was named Bolt, and he named his son, my dad, Bolt Junior, so now I'm Bolt the Third! Everybody in town knows about me since I'm the next in line to becoming the best of the guild! Anyway, put her there!" He extended a paw out to shake.

John shook his hand for three seconds exactly. "And Torchic?"

Torchic told him, "I can't use my real name."

John raised an eye and just hoped this was a kid being a kid. "So uh, you two know each other?" He pointed to both of them.

Bolt grinned. "Yeah, we're going to be joining the guild together. You joining too? It's really cool. You get to fight in mystery dungeons, and you get to capture outlaws for bounties…" Bolt held up a finger for every point he made. "...You also get to sleep inside the guild, you get to eat inside the guild, you get to talk to the people inside the guild, you sometimes get to join cool contests or groups, and sometimes you get to fight off Spectres!"

John shivered at the word "Spectres". "What are Spectres anyway, and why are they so rife in Forlorn Forest?"

Bolt raised an eye, making John feel dumb for the umpteenth time while he was in the area. "No area is rife with Spectres, you're just exaggerating."

"A whole herd of them tried to attack me," John said.

"A WHOLE HERD OF SPECTRES!? HOW COULD YOU HAVE GOTTEN ATTACKED BY A WHOLE HERD!?" Bolt shouted. Other Pokemon in the crowd perked up and ran over to them, somehow not starting an earthquake from their combined mass stomping on the earth. They kicked up enough dust to choke the air. From the dust clouds, John saw all kinds of Pokemon surround him, and they made it impossible to escape. The Joltik in the front? A Gardevoir was behind him. The Braixen and the Oshawott who both wore green scarves? A Delphox was behind those two. Torchic and Bolt receded into the crowd to make it look like they weren't associated.

"A whole herd?"

"Poor kid."

"Where was this?"

John gulped. So many questions, coming from all places. He wasn't sure which ones to answer first, if he should answer them at all. How many Spectres exactly? Probably a billion. Did you fight them all off? With a pitchfork. The mob joined in with torches. It was spectacular.

One Poliwrath got particularly close. "Are you pulling our legs?" he asked gruffly. John's head felt like it was filled with hot air, the steam condensing into sweat now pouring down his forehead.

"Everyone, move." An authoritative voice. The looming crowd parted while a Haxorus strode through them. He wore a black cape with golden trim, the fabric reaching just above his tail. Several Pokemon, such as a Braixen and Oshawott, gave deferential bows to Haxorus. Others mentioned "Guildmaster Haxorus".

Stopping in front of John, Haxorus took a deep breath. He gave a lazy flick of his wrist, making the crowd move back further.

John stared at Haxorus' red eyes, which showed a sense of curiosity.

"You were attacked by a herd of Spectres, hm?" Haxorus asked. "Is this not an exaggeration?"

John found himself staring at the axe-like tusks Haxorus had. They were so sharp, and perfect to use if you needed to beat up an Axew. A Haxorus would be tall, even if John were still a human, much taller than the Breloom. He wondered what the weather must have been like up there.

He let out his breath and said, "Uh, y-yeah. No exaggeration. I was only saved because this Absol helped me out. She was re-really nice, and she blasted a few of them with Shadow Ball. We were at Forlorn Forest, I think."

"Forlorn Forest." Haxorus chuckled. "I'm not sure why you would enter such a place - such a harsh, desolate area. Devoid of Pokemon life ever since the Onslaught a couple years ago. Those Spectres really knew how to clean a crowd, but I don't think it would've worked if they hadn't been accompanied by the Shades." So besides the evil wendigo-like things, there were more of these "beings". Lovely. "Regardless, it's not my business to pry. What I'm wondering is how the Spectres got so attracted to you. Perhaps they were just hungry." He sniffed the air. "Or maybe they thought you were a human."

John wondered if the scent of "human" clung to him. How was he going to explain this? Haxorus only shook his head as if eliminating the thought (thankfully).

"Obviously, that's not the case, as humans have been extinct for several centuries-" Wait, what? "-I could help you learn how to overcome these Spectres. Of course, I can only do so if you join the guild." He pointed to the dome in the distance, the one still shadowed by the sun.

John said, "Er, no thanks. I don't really even know what a guild is." Besides some fragmented assumptions he gained from listening to Bolt.

Pokemon gasped and some stared at him dumbly. Even Bolt and Torchic did, so he shifted around. Haxorus' eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but he regained his composure.

"A guild is an area where teams of Pokemon - known as Exploration Teams - do missions. They are integral to the safety of town as they take out criminals, find lost items deep in mystery dungeons, save Pokemon who are also lost in mystery dungeons, and they run the guild. After doing these missions, the person who made the mission gives them money and items."

That didn't sound too bad. "What are the requirements to join?" John asked.

"Oh, you just pass a field test," Haxorus said with a shrug. "Once that's over, you don't have to worry about anything else. No special skills required."

John knew he had little to no special skills, and saving people's lives was a job that would pay more than joining a restaurant, unless Pokemon treated waiters exceptionally well. He'd also be with a team, meaning safety would be less of an issue as the others could take hits for him while he learned how to fight.

"Who would my partners be?"

"You're the one who gets to choose your partners."

Bolt grinned and grabbed John's paws. Torchic hopped over to the two of them. John blinked stupidly, and Bolt said, "You hear that, John? You and I can join a team along with Torchic. We'll be unstoppable! We could be Team Legacy because of our heritages, or Team Bright since you breathe fire, Torchic's a Fire-Type, and I'm an Electric-Type. Actually by extension, we could even be Team Plasma-"

"-I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourselves," Haxorus said. "Remember, you have to register at the guild, then, three days from now, when the field test starts, you have to take it and you have to win."

John frowned and Torchic pouted.

"Oh, yeah." Bolt kept the grin on his face. "This is gonna be awesome. We'll win for sure!"

"You really think so?" John asked.

Bolt nodded. "I'm the son of the dude who was - is the best Explorer ever! Torchic is the daughter of one of the strongest and most prominent Fire-Type families around! And you're a person who survived Forlorn Forest while a bunch of Spectres were after you! You gotta admit we have a good shot."

 _Yeah, I run, you guys fight. If you see an Absol, she's with me._ "Bolt, I don't mean to be a downer but…" He paused. No, he did not have a choice. "...Before we do it, I really need to do some training, and I think it'll take more than the three days, so…"

Bolt said, "I'll train you for all three days! Let's go!"

He dashed off, and Torchic followed him with cries of, "Don't leave me! Slow down!"

John pursed his lips while Haxorus commented, "You, young man, are going to have an extraordinary team. Whether that'll be a pleasant experience is yet to be seen."

* * *

The building was impressive in stature when up close, due to being at least fifty feet tall. The color job, however, was ugly as sin, being the shade of sun-baked dirt. Hundreds of chips marred the walls, coupled with suspicious red streaks that looked like faded blood.

John panted. Bolt and Torchic ran for nearly half a mile straight. He knew he should've joined Track in school.

"If first impressions are everything, then this building just failed everything," Torchic said flatly. Still, the view was impressive. John could see for miles up on the hill. The buildings stretched on in all directions, only terminating at the horizon or at the forests. Just beyond the horizon were light blue triangles - mountains miles in the distance.

"It could use some sprucing up," Bolt admitted. "But I don't think it's too bad." He went over to the red door that stood only several feet tall, opened it, and gestured the other two inside. John took a deep breath and entered.

Filling the atmosphere was loud noises and multiple conversations that John could only catch snippets of. The lobby had a ceiling high enough for a Dragonite. John took the first few steps, which was on soft grass, no tiles. He glanced at the left wall which had a metal door that reached up to the ceiling, likely an entrance for bigger pokemon. Not only was the height imposing, but the room was wide with dozens of pokemon in the area. They didn't make it dense, but they got in the way. While wandering around, he tried not to stumble into any Pokemon. He avoided a waltzing Meowth and Riolu, made sure not to step on a Joltik, and avoided being stepped on himself by a Venusaur. His only goal was to stick near Bolt and Torchic who sauntered through the place, contrasting with their constantly twitching and wincing partner.

The trio walked over to a Goodra at an oak desk. She shuffled through multiple (slimy) papers, sometimes crumbling them up into little balls which she tossed into a bin.

"Hello, Ma'am," Bolt said. "Are you in charge of the registration papers?"

"Of course!" She took out a manilla folder and knocked the spine of it on the table several times before fishing out forms. Goodra presented them along with a pen using Tentacruel ink. "I guess you guys must be joining us soon." She beamed. "Only three days until the field test. You know, it's always different every time. We like to mix it up a lot around here."

"Uh-huh," Bolt said as he took the papers, carefully avoiding the slimy spot left by Goodra's touch, and left. John gave a small wave goodbye. Bolt put the paper down on the seat of a small concrete chair and wrote down information.

"Names are Bolt Sanguine, Torchic... And John… What is your last name John?"

Instinctively, John panicked. He told strangers any last name except his real last name, for security reasons. His brain thought about Forlorn Forest since that was the only place whose name he knew, and he said, "Forlorn! John Forlorn."

"Wow, you were _born_ there?" Bolt shook his head. "You must have seen the Onslaught then, huh?"

"What is the Onslaught?" John asked. He figured he'd settle the lie out later.

"Do you have amnesia?"

John shook his head.

Bolt coughed. "The Onslaught was one of the invasions the Ghosts did on this town a couple years back. Most of the people here remember it. Spectres, Wraiths, Shades… All of the Ghosts came. No one knows where the source was, but we knew it had to have started somewhere in Forlorn Forest, which, back then, we called Sunshine Forest. Anyway, the citizens of Sunshine got attacked by the Ghosts. A couple explorers put down their lives down to save the place, like this one Absol."

Absol…

"Hey, Bolt, have you ever heard of a Pokemon being differently colored than normal, but they're not shinies?"

"Of course. It happens sometimes," Bolt told him. "Some Pokemon are albinos, others eat Pinkan berries so they become pink. With Spinda they all have spots in different placements on their bodies…"

"What about an Absol where she's purple and white instead of black and white?"

"I… I guess it wouldn't be the weirdest color alteration I've heard of," Bolt said. "I guess you're thinking about the Absol you mentioned to Haxorus." John nodded. Bolt shook his head. "Chances are it's a different Absol than the one who lost her life on that day. That Absol wasn't differently colored. I don't remember her name, but I think it started with a V. I know she was named after a concept of some type, something like Valor. Maybe Valory? Nah, that can't be it. Oh well, it'll come to me at some point."

John thought about the word Valiant. Valiant the Absol. That had a nice ring to it.

"Ages," Bolt said, going back to the list. "Fourteen…"

"Seventeen," John said. Bolt already knew the ages of Torchic and himself so he wrote them down silently.

"Birthdays?" Bolt asked.

"January 2nd," John said.

"So the Winter." Bolt wrote that down. "Cool. I was born in the Autumn."

"I was born in the Summer!" Torchic said.

"Alright." Bolt returned the form to Goodra who smiled. "Now let's just not fail the exam, because if we fail, we go home, and it could be YEARS before the next exam."

"It's never years, Stupid," a Totodile said. The Bulbasaur with her frowned.

Bolt grunted and told her, "Get lost."

"Sounds like something you would do."

"Sarah, let's avoid a fight," the Bulbasaur with her said calmly despite shaking. "I don't want you to risk us getting beaten up. Again."

Sarah crossed her arms. "I don't want him going around, telling people stuff that isn't true. That's lying."

Rolling his eyes, Bolt asked. "Oh, so what? You'll tattle?"

"Yep! Then you'll have to stick your nose in the corner for hours."

"It's never hours, Stupid. We can't have you going around, telling people stuff that isn't true." He crossed his arms. "That's lying." Torchic burst out laughing while John snickered. "And for lying, I'm gonna have to tattle, then you'll have to stick your nose in the corner for MINUTES, and you'll be on the naughty list."

Sarah growled and said, "Let's go Delilah." She walked away and the Bulbasaur, presumably Delilah, joined her.

"That was an experience," Bolt said.

"I'll say." John nodded.

Bolt grinned. "That's the team we're gonna beat."

"Huh?" John gave him an odd look.

"Every team has rivals. Let them be ours!"

John rolled his eyes. "That's stupid. There's no guarantee either of us will get in anyway." Bolt nearly deflated, and John glanced at a round window. The sky had brightened up. Not enough that he could declare it afternoon, but it was certainly late morning. "The day's still young. Why don't you guys show me around?"

* * *

John learned that he made a big mistake asking that simple question. The town, Stronghold, was big, even bigger than some human settlements. The guild, which stood at the tallest point of the "Alpha Section" of the city didn't show off the entire town in its majesty. It was there in the Alpha Section where most important buildings were and it was highly industrial and residential. The Beta Section went over to icy hills, while the Gamma Section was neatly inside of the forest, integrating itself with nature even more. But the Alpha Section was where the shops for frozen yogurt, fast food, and guild supplies were.

John walked uncertainly near the cafe tables that had umbrellas over them. He wanted to find a perfect spot. A Swanna bumped into him.

"Sorry!" he said.

"Watch it!"

He frowned and muttered something under his breath.

Bolt found a table. To get up the chair, John had to climb, a skill which he found he remarkably improved upon. When he was on the seat, he realized he was either going to need a booster chair, or he was going to have to stand up while he ate.

"Torchic and I will order," Bolt said. "You know, since we know what we're doing. We'll come back later." Bolt entered a white, rectangular building. On the front of the building were baby blue letters spelling in cursive "Altaria's Restaurant".

John waited for a few minutes. He traced a circle on the table, making sure to not leave any gouges with his claws. _I wonder if Bobby or Jill miss me. Maybe one of these days I'll get back home, but if I'm going to be stuck here, I'll make the most of it._ He wasn't going to self-pity himself. He would refuse to stand by and let this new life go to waste. He wasn't aimless this time, nor was he directionless. _I might even end up back home at any point._

* * *

Eventually, Bolt brought back a plate of food for them to eat from. There was a red basket full of steaming fries, a fruit-and-berry salad, plus a medium-sized wooden cup containing a Pecha Berry smoothie. Bolt abashedly said that they couldn't afford several cups. The fries tasted excellent, and John considered applying for a job there if the guild didn't work out. Then he drank some juice and tried some of the salad, and thought they tasted terrible.

There was always other restaurants.

After eating, Bolt and Torchic took John to several other outlets. They showed off the accessory store which was mostly scarves. Some decorative, others having actual powers. They showed the bank to John where there was a kind Milotic who would guard money and items. Next they showed him to the general store ran by a Horsea and a Makuhita.

"And here's the dojo, which is where we'll be going soon." Bolt pointed to a building that was only slightly less imposing than the guild. It was made from concrete, with roman pillars supporting the overhang. The entrance's door frame had depictions of side views of roaring Pyroars. It looked more like it would've been a building for government instead of a dojo. "But before we go there, we're gonna need to get some rest. I'll take you back to my house, what do you say?"

John said yes and off they went. Torchic said she had to go somewhere else, and gave John a quick glare. He took that to mean she was going to see those "friends" of hers.

Bolt lived in a simple wooden house with only one floor, a living room, a kitchenette, and two bedrooms. Bolt explained his mom wouldn't be home for a couple days due to a trip she was taking, so John could take her room. As awkward as it was to sleep in a stranger's bed, John had to assume it was okay. He would have to learn the rules of etiquette of this world if he was going to make it.

"Night, Bolt," John said.

"Night John. Don't let the Joltiks bite."

John rolled onto his side… before his eyes shot open.

"Bolt… Joltiks aren't ACTUALLY gonna bite me, right?"

* * *

The therapist and the patient sat down for another session.

The therapist asked the patient about his home life.

"It was fine. I had a few siblings, both parents. Really, I had a big family."

The therapist asked the patient if he had any problems with his family.

"We argued a lot. And I got into fights at school a few times. Not enough to get me expelled, but I got suspended a couple times. Heh, I wasn't well known for being the strongest."

The therapist said that that was all. The patient woke up.

* * *

Author's notes: This chapter was probably fast-paced as well, mostly because I have to explain most of the town and show it off. Of very important details: We've met Bolt, met Haxorus, somehow learned less about Absol, learned about the Onslaught, and met Sarah and Delilah, oh, and we learn Torchic has "friends".

Compared to Chapter one where: We meet "the figure" and Ho-Oh, we meet John, we meet "Sneasel" and "Weavile", we meet the Spectres, we meet Absol, we meet Torchic, we meet the police, we see Forlorn Forest…

Chapter three, however, will almost certainly be slower than these. There's not much to reveal while in a dojo, let's just say that.

I promise that most of this stuff is very connected, and that one should look a bit closer at the phrasing of certain things to find some hints as to how...

This chapter was technically in development while chapter one was, so you could say that the rough draft existed before the week began.

I had to debate whether to share Torchic's real name yet (rest assured she does have one and I'm not stalling for time. This was mostly because I was fiddling with her backstory. Due to one (now-deleted) scene, I don't have to reveal her real name anymore.

Giving Bolt a reason behind his name was fun. "Oh, Thunderbolt." "Actually, it was from my Grandpa." "Nope, don't believe you." Admittedly yes it was from Thunderbolt, and that was his "beta-name", but I got too attached to it...

Also, by the time chapter four is out, the school year will be close to starting. This means I get to write stuff during the school year, and seeing how that affects schedule. Hopefully, not that much.

Unfortunately my beta-reader got to me a bit late so most issues couldn't quite get rectified. I probably should have given it to him earlier. Still, my deal was that I'd update every week, and it's been little over a week.


	3. Training

Chapter 3: Training

 _"Psychopath," the figure said. "You claim moral superiority, then use defenseless children as fighting fodder."_

 _Ho-Oh said, "I did not set upon them the fiends that destroy towns. Your Ghosts. Did I sentence their world to ruin with the mystery dungeons?"_

 _They both went silent._

 _"Some pieces get stronger." Ho-Oh held a pawn in her talons and advanced it, allowing it to become a queen._

* * *

If you asked John what he remembered his house by, he would have said the smell of cooking. His parents were busy, too exhausted to make dinner most days, so Jordan taught him a thing or two. John excelled at cooking when only seven.

John had a harder time working the stove considering his new form required he use a stepstool to reach the counter. Still, he managed. Grilled cheese sandwiches sizzled on the pan, while eggs rocked in a bubbling pot.

Bolt and Torchic sat at a small table, both peering over to John.

"How long until it's ready?" Torchic asked, while Bolt put his feet on the Pikachu-sized table. He absorbed himself in a newspaper, surprising John slightly as he didn't think Bolt to be up-to-date on current events.

John said, "It's gonna take a bit for the eggs, but have some appetizers." He plated the grilled cheese sandwiches, and brought them over.

Bolt put down the newspaper, while Torchic smiled. Both grabbed their grilled cheeses and bit into them.

"Thanks!" they said despite their mouthfuls.

John chuckled, and got them both a glass of orange juice to help them swallow down the cheese.

"So John," Bolt asked after wiping his mouth with the back of his paw. "You don't seem to know a lot about how things work around here. What's your clanname?"

John paused. Did Clannames indicate location? He thought for a second, and his mind went to Forlorn Forest. "John... Forlorn!"

"You came from there?" Bolt asked, wide-eyed.

"What? No. I meant, John... Forlorn-Done."

"Done?"

"Of... Donian Islands?" John twiddled his claws. Were Clannames names derived from the places instead of merely implying the location? They accepted his statement quickly, going back to their grilled cheeses. What about Bolt Sanguine? Was Sanguine a place?

"Never heard of it, but then again I don't know much about the surrounding area," Bolt said.

John sighed in relief, and several minutes later, served the eggs.

"What's our plan for today?" John asked, shifting on his seat and grabbing a grilled cheese.

Bolt said, "Last minute training."

Torchic said, "We still have three days..."

"It's a saying, don't be so literal," Bolt said. "Anyway, we're going to the Hawlucha Dojo, get some of those fighting skills that she's got. Maybe even learn a couple new moves while we're there." He laughed. "We won't, probably."

"Okay, so when do we head out?"

"We want to get there as soon as possible. Every group gets a session before she takes the next group."

John figured that made sense. Why teach a whole group of Pokemon when either they found the training too simple, or too hard?

"Okay, so when's it open?"

"Five minutes. Wait..."

* * *

Bolt slammed open the doors to the dojo. The darkness shrouding the room retreated from the influx of light, while also chased off by torches lining the walls. Torchic and John came behind Bolt, John puffing like he ran a marathon. Come to think of it, he wasn't sure how far this place was from Bolt's house. He may have run a mile or two.

A figure swooped down, blending into the darkness. "Enter," she said in a forced deep tone.

John, Bolt, and Torchic looked at each other. Bolt was brave enough to take the first step in.

The figure clapped twice, and curtains moved from windows, exposing the room to more, natural light. John winced as the stimuli flooded his vision.

The dark figure, a shiny Hawlucha, strode over with a smile. "Good morning, Pikachu, Axew, and Torchic. My name is Rainbow Prism, but you should stick to Rainbow! I will be your instructor for today. May I ask what you would like to learn?" She dropped the deep tone.

Bolt spoke to her while John examined the room. While Bolt explained how the guild had a field test, John occupied himself with observing the flooring. Perfectly cut marble. It felt like the tiles of a kitchen floor. The Roman columns supporting the roof looked fitting, artistically painted pure white. However, the roof looked out of place, made with wood unlike everything else which came from rock.

John's attention snapped to the conversation when Rainbow delivered a verdict on how she'd teach them.

"It's obvious that this group needs some light training first, so I'll start off with some of that reaction speed. Give me a few seconds here." She flew over to a wooden door towards the back of the dojo, and opened it. A couple balls bounced out. Rainbow grabbed a ball and slammed the door shut with her hip.

John wondered if that meant they were playing ball for today. He could deal with playing ball. But did Pokemon have different types of games they played with said ball?

"Dodgeball sneak attack!" She reeled her arm back and threw the dodgeball straight for John.

John gasped and froze in panic. He wasn't expecting a surprise game of dodgeball, and the ball travelled at potentially one trillion miles per hour. Was it an exaggeration? No, because it had to have travelled that speed considering, when it hit him in the face, the force felt surreal.

The others gathered over him, then Bolt said, "You've been out ten minutes."

"...No I wasn't," he said, not even noticing he fainted. However, the immense pain in his cranium, like someone was trying to compact it, told him the hit connected. Come to think of it, he didn't remember falling as much as remembering it touching his face, then finding himself on the floor.

Was that his first faint? Did she use some type of move? What kind of idiot did you have to be for a sneak attack to surprise you when the other Pokemon literally shouted "sneak attack"?

He would blame brain damage, but that came after the ball hit him.

Bolt helped him up. "Getting fainted can be a little disorienting. Don't worry, you're fine. I think."

But as he got up, John felt lightheaded. His vision blurred, and he lost all sense of balance. He had to wrap an arm around Bolt's shoulder to avoid falling.

It took a minute to stabilize himself, but Rainbow was ranting on about... something. All perception of language was pretty much lost to him.

How much damage did that ball do to him? At least it helped him stomach his first fainting coming from a ball.

After regaining a sense of the world again, he asked Bolt, "What should fainting be like?"

Bolt tilted his head in a 'you should know by now' manner. "Haven't been knocked out recently? The first time for me was pretty scary. I lost, like, all senses like I got Confused."

Wonderful, a condition commonly inflicted by Pokemon moves could repeat this experience. "Does it ever get better?"

"Not for the first few times. It took me maybe ten times before I started getting up a lot quicker from being fainted."

"Okay, only making sure 'cause I haven't fainted for a while now," John said, having come up with an acceptable excuse.

"Anyway," Rainbow interrupted. "It's obvious that your group isn't exactly quick or strong if one of you gets fainted from a rubber ball. Okay, the core of it isn't rubber..." Was she insinuating she meant for the ball to inflict brain damage? "Gonna have to put you guys on the Magikarp stage. We'll start progressively."

John smiled. It couldn't get that much harder from here... so long as he ducked.

* * *

Rainbow took them to the nearby beach, letting them stand in the shade of a cliffside. She gathered a crowd of Magikarp. About twenty Magikarp peeked their heads out, and maybe fifty more remained in the water.

The phrase "Magikarp Stage" told John that it would be an easier stage, equivalent to a "beginner's stage". Facing a Magikarp was more his pace, admittedly, but it felt insulting.

"Alright," Rainbow said as she turned to them. "You're going to have to fight all these Magikarp."

John blinked.

"Let's do this!" Bolt said, making a fist.

Torchic noticed John sweating. "Are you okay?"

John shook his head. If he fainted to a Magikarp, he might cry.

"Begin!" Rainbow said.

Several Magikarp jumped into the air, providing shade with how high they flew. As they landed, John did his best to run side to side to avoid dodge-Magikarp. They would flop onto the beach and flop back into the water.

"Round two!" Rainbow shouted.

"Already?" John asked.

About twenty this time. John kept to his strategy of running from them.

Bolt shouted, "Come on John, fight them!" He got onto his hands, and did some breakdancing motion, maneuvering on his hands while slashing two Magikarp with Iron Tail. John had to admit, Bolt's footwork was fancy.

However, John had no ranged moves. What would he do? Punch them in the face with Scratch?

"Round three!"

More jumped into the air this time, with at least fifty. He couldn't outrun them. His pupils turned to pinpricks, before he closed them in anticipation of Magikarp colliding with him. Then, he took a deep breath, and could feel something boiling inside his body. John released this boiling sensation, expelling itself as an intense plume of blue fire which rose to meet one of the challengers. Despite being fire, it headed in a straight line, and hit a Magikarp dead on.

A bunch of others fell around him, before flopping into the ocean.

"Cool move, John!" Bolt gave him a thumbs up.

John chuckled and said, "Yeah, I think I can actually do this guys!" Dragon Rage wasn't the strongest move, but it gave him a fighting chance.

One Magikarp, bigger than the others, said, "It's not over yet! We will blot out the sea!"

"Then we'll swim in the shade!" John said, discovering that sounded much, much cooler in his head. Actually, no, it didn't, but it sounded cool in that brief absence of thought he had.

A hundred Magikarp this time, all taking to the sky. John took a deep breath, and repeated the Dragon Rage with great results. Who knew learning moves could be so easy? At least, he hoped it would continue being this easy.

Defeated Magikarp surrounding him flopped, and while he figured he didn't get most of them, that didn't matter. Between him and Bolt, they downed thirteen, and Torchic got a couple. However, he couldn't find himself focusing on her as much as he focused on Bolt.

It wasn't that he didn't like Torchic by any degree, as much as Bolt simply interested him more. His dance-like fighting style, coupled with his sinuous movements, looked captivating. Add a bold Pokemon, and John found someone he could watch all day.

"Round five! Final round!" Rainbow said.

So far, he hadn't taken much damage, and this had been much easier than dodge ball. John, Bolt, and Torchic stood side-by-side, prepared for anything.

Magikarp, hundreds, rocketed from the water, which transformed into a scene of apocalyptic fury. Thousands came, blotting the beach in shadows like a surprise thunderstorm. The thousands of Magikarp seemed to form one big Magikarp comparable to an act of camouflage. Behind them was the true power of Splash, a tsunami which curved upwards, providing the abomination a roof. The tsunami grew larger than the surrounding beach or cliffside. Indeed, the impossible conglomeration of Magikarp seemed so imposing that it stopped for a second. Only a second. And in that one second, John realized what it meant to be truly screwed.

* * *

Bolt waved a paw in front of John, but the Axew didn't cease his ten mile stare, not even to blink. It was unlikely John even registered the cup of hot coco he held to soothe him after the massive attack.

Rainbow said, "Guess you guys are pretty ready to get to stage six!"

"I thought there was only five rounds of Magikarp," Bolt said.

"Five rounds, but six stages of the Magikarp course," she clarified. "Beating up Magikarp is stage two. Afterwards, you need to blaze five more stages before I graduate you to the next course. Now I need to figure out which obstacle course to put you guys on..."

Torchic blasted her with an Ember, making her shriek in pain.

On the walk home, after their expulsion from the Dojo, Torchic said, "I think we're strong enough. She seemed pretty angry at the burn."

"You can't burn Pokemon like that," Bolt said, not actually caring. "It's, like, you shouldn't do that because most civilized Pokemon don't. That's what the feral ones do."

John asked, "Ferals?"

Torchic said, "She already told me that after she asked me to stand in front of a tree. I don't get why."

John frowned, figuring no one either heard him, or they had too much of his stupidity for one day. At least he was back to his senses.

"That was a time out," Bolt said. "She made you stand in front of the tree."

"But I liked looking at it. It was interesting. I liked the bark and stuff."

Bolt blinked. "You liked the corner?"

John said, "Well, it's like what my father used to say." He figured no one paid attention to him anyway, so he could say anything. "Never spank a Skarmory."

Bolt asked, "...What does that even mean?"

* * *

They all got home safely, albeit while still sore. A new problem arose. Bolt didn't have enough beds for all three members.

"How does a bed go missing!?" John asked.

"Maybe it was stolen?" Bolt said, mumbling.

"What kinds of crazy robbers do you guys have in this city that they steal beds!?"

Bolt said, "You don't get what kinds of things are valuable to others, do you? But no, I'm with you on this one. Of all things, why our bed? I would've taken the money stashed underneath the beds."

"There's money underneath the beds?" Torchic asked.

"...Not anymore."

John facepawed. "Alright, so one of us has to sleep outside. It should probably be the oldest..."

He forgot to specify how they should've been warm-blooded. John didn't figure himself the oldest, and while Bolt struck him as older than fourteen. Torchic was seven, explaining her behavior.

However, his inner resentment melted the more he looked up. He reclined his back against a tree, and stared at the stars, which seemed to recede so far, yet not as much as they actually did. Everything felt insignificant, even the howling wind on his scales, and he wondered if maybe his home world was up in those stars.

He paused. For some reason, he assumed something Teleported him to a different planet, but for all he knew, he travelled dimensions, or maybe this was simply a different part of the earth. Maybe he was in the future or the past.

The stars, unperturbed by his issues, twinkled.

"It's been two days," he mumbled to himself, enjoying his own company. "I wonder how you guys are getting along without me. Jordan, Jill, Bobby... I hope you guys are doing okay, and aren't worrying too much. Maybe I am in the past, and when I come back, no time will have gone, and none of you will have even noticed I left. Did I really even matter back home?"

He took a deep breath. "Do I even matter here? Should I roll with the punches? I mean, that's what I've been doing, and I've been doing alright. There's purpose here, there's jobs, but was I picked out of billions for no reason? Will I wake up and will all the effort I put in this world be useless?"

The stars winced.

The little Axew lowered his head until his chin nearly met his chest. Before falling into any stupor, he heard creaking.

Peering from the front of the tree, he saw Torchic. She bumped the door beside her. Temporarily, he wondered how she opened the door. Maybe construction workers in this realm (he would've said world, but realm sounded more neutral) specially designed the doors so- wait, where in the world was a seven year old going at midnight!?

This kid needed a curfew.

Maybe Pokemon had a different way of thinking about bedtimes. But John remembered her saying the city had a curfew. That implied that they had an idea about bedtimes. And he did ask Bolt during the walk home from Rainbow's. Bolt explained curfew was for every Pokemon, and they had to be on someone's property between determined hours. Pokemon who worked a night shift had to work for six hours, between twelve and six, or risk being prosecuted.

However, His curiosity about Torchic's activities prevented him from shouting at her to come back. For the second time in a week, he would risk getting in trouble because of Torchic breaking the law.

He suddenly understood claims about the newer generation being worse.

Torchic tiptoed into the shadows of the streets, where no streetlights existed. John followed, not too closely, slinking around cracked walls with peeled plaster. When she ducked into an alleyway, he would creep over, and he would follow her as the darkness made a maze out of the town.

It was amazing what tricks the night played on him. No illumination, besides the stars. They weren't warded off by light pollution creating a panoramic view, but the world beneath the celestial canopy felt darker. He couldn't see more than ten feet ahead, only catching the little bird bolting place to place.

Night time also amplified sounds horrifically. He could hear what sounded like someone walking on a rooftop. However, as he looked up at the rooftops, it seemed preposterous, but he heard more footsteps.

He took a few deep breaths. Chances were, it was something else. While it sounded like tiles, and it was coming from above him, perhaps something echoed. That was what his brain insisted, while his heart's beating persisted.

Chills as cold as a Ghost-Types breath tickled his spine. He hugged himself, while his bandana flapped in the wind.

John could've sworn the streets got darker the further he crawled. Had he walked two minutes? Fifteen? Thirty? Time felt infinite and infinitesimal, as anything out of place alerted him immediately, but the duration of the trek felt ten times longer because of all the information his mind processed.

More tapping on the roof. John quickened his pace, until he heard the walking stop... Because someone landed in front of him. He stumbled backwards and fell flat on his behind. A Mightyena with blue eyes stared at him, and two more Mightyena jumped down to greet her.

"Jade?" she asked, tilting her head.

Before John could answer no, she snapped at his neck and he lost consciousness again.

* * *

Author's Notes: I would've posted this earlier, but I got sucked up into a different dimension. We'll talk about that later.

But basically, I never actually gave up, but I did procrastinate. I figured I'd wait for my beta, and plus school started, so I let a week pass by. Then, in my laziness, I let a week pass again. I wrote up more chapters, figuring it would fill the void, and more and more weeks passed. Until finally my mind let this fic slip by.

Then there was the ideas of getting back, of finally fixing for myself a schedule. So here I am.

I'm surprised how someone already got a theory as to what the ends of the chapters mean. I'll give you a hint about Ho-Oh and the figure. Anything that goes on in their scene affects the plot of the chapter. In this one, Ho-Oh talking about pieces growing stronger is obviously about the training.

Will the chapter a week experiment continue? Obviously. I know where I'm headed, but all chapters have to be rewritten if only because of their crudeness in design.

Sunday, however, will not be the main day. The main day will be Monday for updates.


	4. Astray

**Chapter 4: Astray**

 _The chess game continued. The figure looked at the board and pointed to a pawn. It wasn't in the middle of the conflict, nor was it a part of Ho-Oh's powerful pawn structure. It was towards the middle of the board, not doing anything._

 _"_ _What's with that piece?" he asked._

 _"_ _Oh dear," Ho-Oh said. "That little piece has gone astray…"_

* * *

"Jade's waking up!"

John grunted and sat up. The fainting process smashed his mind. If he tried to think, the ramblings his brain produced would be no more valid than a drunkard's. However, from indecipherable blurs of color, he could tell something was happening, something problematic. As he regained his senses, he became aware of crackling from an orange wall.

The three Mightyena from before approached him. He would've scooted away, but he figured he had no chance of escape. One, the blue-eyed Mightyena, sat down behind him. Staring at the flames, she said, "We brought you Jade."

John examined the scene. Walls of concrete and jagged bricks surrounded his either side. The spaciousness between either wall told him he was on a road, instead of an alley. A dozen yards northward, a wall of flames stood, with a figure behind. Southwards, he could run to a four-way intersection in this "abandoned maze" part of town.

He figured, however, he'd ask for peaceful release. "I'm. Not. Jade," he said.

"What?" The figure from the other side of the blazing veil said.

Remembering his distinctive trait, John stood up and pointed to his eyes. "I'm not Jade! Look into my eyes. I am blue-eyes green dragon! I don't even know who Jade is." Once he met 'Jade', for each time she ruined things until now, he'd give her that many punches in the face. Maybe he'd snap off a tusk or two, for additional teaching.

"Oh," One Mightyena said, a male. John sensed a difference between the two males. It wasn't due to scent, or because of any distinguishing features. Maybe they walked in a subtly different matter.

"That's John. He's a friend of mine," someone said, approaching. Torchic.

John looked at Torchic and marched up to her. He wasn't a father, but still had a "dad voice". "You listen here, I'm not sure what you're doing here, but we're leaving, and you're not going out at midnight anymore!"

After blinking, she said, "John, you're not my dad."

John grunted, and reached for her wing, but she stepped back.

"Torchic, come. Now!"

"No! These guys teach me stuff! I know more about why Stronghold's bad... Why the mayor's bad," Torchic said.

"You're seven, at most. What do YOU need to know about Stronghold?" John asked.

"Likely less than you, 'cause you're an idiot!"

John bit back a response. Insecurity plagued him, especially regarding his smarts. Neither excuse nor reason arrived to mind as to why he should know so little about this culture, at least, no thoughts he could publicize. But what if these Pokemon were trying to indoctrinate her? With the creepy hidden figure, and violent way of entering the group, John deserved to be suspicious. They broke laws.

But was he judging from his world's standards? Obviously. Begrudgingly, he understood he didn't possess that option.

"Okay, I'll listen," John said, pointing to the curtain division between him and the figure. "But if I don't like what I'm hearing, we're leaving." And he plopped himself down, only to take nervous account of all the Pokemon. A Seviper slithered behind a Breloom. A couple dozen Pokemon stared at him for his upset. One Dewgong rested her head in her arms, perhaps ready for a nap.

"Finally, we have someone with an open mind!" the figure exclaimed. "We expect people to NOT want to join... at first. But we only recruit when we know (one-hundred percent) we will convince them."

The shadow behind the flames paced. "Magmar leads this town POORLY. Dark-Types aren't allowed outside at night by virtue of curfew. Meanwhile, Fighting-Types aren't allowed to fight in open streets since fighting is illegal within town limits. This is equivalent to denying warmth for a Fire-Type, or keeping plants away from Grass-Types."

John had to admit the figure was articulate, if cheesy. The way he emphasized certain words, or spoke in that deep tone of voice allured him like a Salazzle's walk. He elongated syllables in a way that sounded snake-like, with a slither to each word.

"Superior," the figure went on to explain, "is Guildmaster Haxorus." The crowd, except John, cheered. "Guildmaster Haxorus is the best leader we have, because he listens to his subordinates. He listens to Dragonite, and to Hydreigon, and to Goodra. He listens to those in his guild. When rescue teams complained about lack of food, he personally saw to it that he spent more of the guild's budget on dining.

"But the problem is that he has no ambition! He's settled with his position in the town's hierarchy." The figure's crest fell. "We've seen how he handles power, and we know he'd utilize it greatly. I tend to rephrase certain sayings, and my favorite to alter is "power brings corruption". Power has never, in history, brought corruption. It only EXPOSES pre-existing corruption."

The tone of deference supplied to 'Guildmaster Haxorus' indicated the figure may have been a member of the guild. A Fire-Type at that. John, guessing from proportions of the figure to nearby Pokemon, put the figure as near the same height as himself. The fire and haze, annoyingly, obscured his shape too much to discern anything else.

"Now, I bet a few of you aren't entirely convinced about Haxorus' true power. Let's run over the statistics. The guild has more strength. Factual. The guild has about thirty teams of two, three, even four Pokemon. That's anywhere from sixty to one-hundred and twenty Pokemon. The police force has twenty Pokemon. The city guards are ten in number. The bodyguards are ten in number. Oh, and don't those numbers illuminate Magmar's TYRANNY? He puts as much value in his own safety as he does the town. Haxorus can handle himself, which is why he has no guards."

A madman's propaganda, John wanted to protest, but the figure made many good points. He even brought in statistics.

But wait, if John was idiotic to the ways of the world, then this guy might be full of-

"Do we get cake now?" A Munchlax asked.

What?

"Of course," the figure said. "Everyone, please keep these words in mind as we dine tonight."

Bloodthirsty savages didn't offer food at rallies. Didn't giving someone food signify absolute lack of savagery?

"We need to be full for the revolution, after all."

And every Pokemon besides John cheered.

John whispered to Torchic, "Why are you cheering? Do you know what a revolution is!?"

"No, but it sounds fun."

John facepawed. He knelt to her level. "That means they're going to be very naughty to destroy the town, and they'll destroy it by attacking the mayor, getting into fights, and a whole host of other bad, illegal things."

Torchic's smile collapsed into a frown. For a second, she opened her mouth, ready to respond, only to close it again. That second told John all: Torchic didn't want that.

"They wouldn't do that," she muttered. "Are you sure?"

"They're likely prepping for a riot right now."

Torchic said, "Maybe they want to..." She couldn't offer a reasonable explanation. "Do we leave?"

John eyed the others, and he caught a couple eyes on him. He sat down peacefully, letting enemy eyes wander back to the flaming wall. John bit his lower lip, then said, "Yeah, follow my lead."

Hoping on speed, he dashed towards an alley, but Blue-eyed landed in front of him. He stopped, inches from her. Pupils shrinking, he gulped and backed up. Blue-eyed advanced, triggering John's panic alarm. Rashly, he fired Dragon Rage at her face. The blue flames rushed out of his throat, wrapped around her head, and expired magnificently as a cloud of fire. The rooftops basked in blue from the glow. John, meanwhile, stared in horror at the Mightyena's charred visage. She growled and raised her hackles.

The little Axew fell to his knees, brought his paws together, and begged her, "Please please please, that was an accident, I swear! Please don't eat me!"

"Halt," the revolution leader demanded, "I believe John will be dining now." Blue-eyed sat back on her haunches, permitting John to stand. This unknown figure was a peaceful protestor, John mentally admitted.

A Grovyle gestured to a nearby road. As Pokemon turned the corner, they'd find tables lavished with food. Since Blue-eyed wouldn't grant passage, participating in the banquet was a mandatory option. Probably more propaganda, as very few Pokemon (or people for that matter) could turn down free food.

The hero of the table, sitting proudly in the center, was a bowl of juice. Red. Smelling slightly bitter, but John couldn't put his claw on what it was. Loaves of bread and various grains displayed a medieval-theme, or perhaps that's how feasts were in this place.

Torchic ran to John. While grabbing two wooden plates, one for her, he said, "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you."

"We were going to leave."

"We're not with crazies," John said, voice unsteady. "They might want change, but at least they're not crazy." He grabbed a slice of bread, a couple spoonfuls of mashed potatoes smothered with gravy, and a chicken leg. For a second he wondered what a chicken even was. Sounded like Torchic. The awkward thought caused him to put it back.

"Are you scared?"

"Always."

"Okay..." Torchic said, and in acceptance, said, "I wanna try the chicken."

"Probably not actually." John got a cup full of the red liquid, set the oak cup on his plate, and sat at a derelict house. Torchic, instead of settling down comfortably, squealed when she sat down and shot up. Raising an eye, John inspected the ground, to find a glass shard. Torchic would set herself down on John's other side while John scanned for the shard's source. Above them, he saw a shattered glass window belonging to the house they rested at.

"This place is run-down," John commented.

Torchic nodded while John set her plate in front of her. "Many Pokemon left because criminals came here a lot. And they kept coming because most criminals were there. That's what my Aunt Typhlosion told me."

He gave her a quick glance. First time she mentioned any family. "Broken windows theory," John said, probably getting the phenomenon's name wrong, but the main idea was if someone broke a law, the witnesses would do so too.

However, if criminal Pokemon were more likely to be here, wouldn't police patrol the area more frequently? With the bright, burning fire and the smoke curling into the air, the meeting was visible. Factoring in noise levels, while most whispered, fifty Pokemon still produced as much noise as an elementary school classroom, without walls to insulate said sound.

If the police came, (as they would according to John's luck), they'd need an escape route, and this window was said route.

As luck wouldn't have it, a Noivern would land on a building adjacent to the flames, shouting, "Police, police! Everyone, hide!"

John, who's idea came in handy, hoisted Torchic up onto the window sill. After grabbing the sill, he pulled-up, got over and into the building.

Barren and slate gray walls, with no rooms besides this one. A door, and the broken window served as the only other things in the house. John's dissatisfaction with the lair of boredom faded with the waves of anxiety filling him.

Stomping entered the streets. "It seems we lost them again," one voice said.

A more familiar voice accompanied. "Keep searching. We need to clobber someone to look good."

Disturbed, John rationalized that he couldn't be a criminal. For one, he was forced into this, and furthermore, he didn't want to start a revolution. Thirdly, neither did Torchic, and since she was merely a child, she couldn't get into serious trouble.

After sharing his speculation with Torchic, she said, "Go first. I don't want to get punched in the face."

John grunted, but grabbed the windowsill, and placed his feet on the plaster between bricks for support. With a steady breath, he pushed himself over, but used excess strength, which threw him over the wall. Upon landing, he continued rolling where he struck the thick leg of a Nidoqueen.

A surprised Zoroark and angry Nidoqueen both looked down at him. John gulped. Nidoqueen grabbed his throat, and yanked him into the air so they were eye to eye.

Despite his constricted airway, John had enough breath to choke out, "Wait, I'm not a criminal, I swear-"

Nidoqueen reeled her arm back. "Like I care!" John's pupils dilated as he felt chills rush past him. Not artificial chills, nor chills produced by the self, but chills from wind rushing past him, and whirling around Nidoqueen's fist. A bright, ice-blue aura glowed around her hand like an orb. The fist never made contact John's face since she released her choking grip, dropping him on his butt.

He "oof"ed, but looked up to see Nidoqueen's face scrunched up in a twister of gritted teeth and squeezed, shut eyes. Seeds exploded against her back.

A Breloom jumped out from behind a window. "Run!" she commanded John. Nodding, John sprinted to the window to retrieve Torchic.

Insofar, the police weren't interested in his innocence, inspiring John to take a closer look at the rebellion's motives. He had to invest in a brochure, and attend at least two more meetings after this. When Torchic hopped over, John grabbed her little wing appendage, and bolted.

Rebels poured into the streets to fight off the police, each risking their identities, but none caring. Mob mentality reigned over the enraged Pokemon who would slash, bite, and attack the Nidoqueen and Zoroark, along with several other authoritative minions.

Spectres lurched into the area. Remembering that Spectres didn't usually travel in groups, John speculated these weren't true Spectres, but Zoroark's illusions.

"We should fight," John said.

"What?" Torchic looked at him and shook her head. "We'll lose."

An illusory Spectre nommed on John's head. Not being able to see past the illusion, John got a not-so brilliant idea.

"The revolution will not be civilized."

Nidoqueen fought valiantly, but yelped when she felt hot flames against her bottom. Turning around, she saw John, a Spectre clinging to his head in a most convincing manner. Wind rushed again, as Nidoqueen prepared Ice Punch, and launched it at John's face. Directly at his face.

* * *

Bolt grimaced as he filled out the paperwork. He repeated a line on the paper. "I sincerely apologize for everything my knucklehead friends did, and I agree to pay the fine of 50,000 poké to cover the costs of the following crimes: Conspiracy, assault, and stupidity. I do understand that if I don't pay these costs by next Wednesday, you will take my paycheck, my property, and my firstborn child."

"And I'll bite him," Nidoqueen said, pointing to John.

"And you'll bite him," Bolt added.

Fainting four times in one day (or maybe two days if midnight passed) informed John he was lucky to be even alive. Forlorn Forest should've murderized him, yet here he was, in a chair, tied to it with rope. In a police station. Torchic was also tied up. However, she was in perfect condition while John's right tusk was chipped.

"Alright," Zoroark said as she slashed their binds. "Now get out of our faces."

John didn't need to be told twice. He raced to the door, opened it, only to see a figure. A human? In a black cloak. With skeletal fingers. John's pace quickened. Was this thing a close relative of a Spectre?

It pulled down it's cloak. A demonic Axew face shot out at John, stopping right in front of him. It had bulging red eyes, red tusks, and sharp teeth. The head was ten times bigger than John.

It shouted, "AND DON'T YOU DO IT AGAIN YOU IDIOT!"

John screamed and sprinted to Bolt. He hugged him. "Savemesavemesavemesavemesaveme!"

Bolt, being a Pikachu in shining armor, carried John bridal-style. "Well, I guess the field test is going to be a challenge considering..." Not caring that Bolt faltered, John placed his arms on his chest. He imagined he must look adorable right now, if wimpy, but the mean police lady had yelled at him, beaten him up, and done some other things he'd dare not repeat.

"We need a team name," Torchic said. Despite the easily traumatic experience, she didn't look too fazed.

"We all can use either fire or electricity. Those are plasmas," Bolt said. "Maybe Team Plasma."

John grinned, and lost it. He burst out laughing. Bolt slowly set him down and stared at him like one would stare at a crazy person. Torchic possessed a similar expression.

"Team Plasma? Yes. Perfect naming! Team Plasma. We are Team Plasma from now on!"

Torchic and Bolt giggled nervously while John continued his exhausted, stress-filled rambling well into the night. He continued acknowledging the appropriateness of how messed up his team was. The team not only had a Pokemon who unwittingly joined a revolution, but had a potential new revolutionary. Besides that, they were free Pokemon, able to do as they wanted without a trainer. "Everyone, fear our names, because we're TEAM PLASMA!"

And the newly forged Team Plasma would, when morning came, go out for ice cream to celebrate their new name, and also to appease John because it might soothe the savage dragon.

* * *

The therapist told the patient, "We've talked about your morality, but not your spirituality. Tell me, what color best represents your soul?"

The patient said a silvery-gray.

"Yes, that does suit you well. Your soul is dull, yet valuable. You're important, more than you thought, but at the same time, you're a regular person, aren't you?"

The patient said his goal was purple.

"Ah yes, power. Every one of us want more power. Perfectly reasonable." The therapist clapped. "Today's session is done."

The patient awoke.

* * *

Author's Notes:

In case you're wondered about eating Chicken, no, it is not derived from Pokemon. Real-world animals exist in this universe, however John doesn't know what it is because it doesn't exist in his part of the universe, meanwhile it does in the Pokemon Mystery Dungeon world. This is all a giant tongue-in-cheek thing. Fun fact, Pokemon has shown real-world animals before, however it was mostly first and second gen. But they have to get names like "the real-world-animal Pokemon" from somewhere. However, only more basic real-world animals exist. Anything bigger than a rat likely won't exist for mammals. No bigger than a crow for birds. No bigger than a cod for fish. Since insects don't get that big, anything goes that isn't Australian-size.

Also, I have given up on the update weekly dream. Updating fortnightly may be possible, however.


	5. Initiation

Chapter 5: Initiation

 _Ho-Oh and Azrah began a new game of chess. Per usual, Ho-Oh started with the Bird's Opening._

* * *

"Greetings, everyone, to the annual guild initiation. Today's ceremony will be held here at Treeglow Forest, and will end at Obsidian Caves. I will explain the rules, but first, let me greet you to five teams who volunteered for this event."

Haxorus held a steady voice, yet didn't drone. John, at least, felt interested in what he was saying. In fact, the little reptile wished he had a notebook. The guildmaster could only give useful information.

John was, bluntly put, stupid. He accepted this idea long ago, before he joined this "world" (while that planet-jumping theory wasn't confirmed yet, he was sticking to it). The alien, former human hoped Torchic and Bolt listened, since they'd understand Haxorus better when it came to locations.

Every Pokemon gathered in one of two places. Some stood behind Haxorus, on the concrete stage. The other place Pokemon assembled stood guard twenty to fifty feet away: The barren grass patches preceding the massive forest basking in multicolored glow. Haxorus' platform stood grand yet intimidating, elevated at least five feet. Columns ringed it, each holding up a section of ceiling. The marble was almost snow-white and reflected the excess sunlight of that afternoon.

Haxorus announced the names of various teams who stood forward when called. Five in total. Team Peace, a 'platinum-ranked team', which was two Sevipers and a Zangoose (John wondered how that team even worked). The two Sevipers would wave with their tails before Haxorus gestured them away. Paladin came next, silver-ranked, and consisting of a Braixen and Oshawott. Afterwards was Team Breaker-Ice, a gold-ranked Weavile and Sneasel duo.

John shuddered when Weavile winked at him. Was she...?

Gold-ranked Team Buizel was fourth, being three Buizels. Finally - and this team caught his attention because of their revealing speech - Haxorus introduced a second Silver-Ranked team named Team Dynamo. A Charmander and Cyndaquil stepped up, before the Charmander announced:

"I know our sister, Tara, is in the crowd. She's a Torchic. Anyway, basically, I want to wish you luck, but, don't think I'll go easy on you when we find you! We're both still going to do our best to beat the snot out of you!"

John looked at Torchic, but she cheered along with the crowd. He scanned the crowd for other Torchics, but couldn't find one. Then again, with how many differently sized and shaped Pokemon he did see, it'd be miraculous to find a second one of the small orange fluffballs. But was Torchic the aforementioned Tara? He remembered Torchic saying something about having an actual name.

Haxorus, after pushing Team Dynamo back, continued his lecture, diverting John's attention. "Anyway, these five are elimination teams. If you see any one of them, run away immediately."

Pointing to deep within the forest, he said, "This is the Treeglow Forest, and within it are many obstacles that will challenge you. The least of which will be the environment itself. Treeglow has many trees with a surprising ability that science has yet to explain - they have bioluminescence."

Torchic asked John, "What does that mean?"

"It means they can glow."

"Cool."

"Your team will traverse this forest, and you should stick to bounds, otherwise, well, you probably won't be making it in time to the Obsidian Caves. Each team has one hour to make it to the Obsidian Caves where my secretary Goodra will be waiting. When you get there, you will have to write your names down in confirmation, and you will all be allowed in.

"It does not matter how you get there. You do not have to fight a single Pokemon. We're testing your abilities to conquer mystery dungeons" - John learned more about those in the past two days, but he still wasn't sure how hard they'd be to face - "before you actually enter them. However, that's why there's this additional rule.

"If one member of your team faints, the entire team is considered to be out of the competition." If John recalled correctly, that's how dungeons worked.

Many murmurs in the crowd, one of which was John, as he talked to Bolt. "How are they gonna know if only one of us faints? Couldn't we simply wake up in time?"

Bolt said, "They have bracelets which will help them know."

"What if someone doesn't take a bracelet?"

"They'll ask to see them at the end. I know. Twenty years ago, my dad did this before. Not this challenge, 'cause they're changing where it's held each year, but they keep the same rules."

"Thanks."

Haxorus continued. "The elimination teams will be hunting each member of your team down, without care. Also, there may be Ghosts in the forest." Great, those creepy things. "We will try to make sure none of you get eaten, but when it comes to Ghosts, we can't promise anything." And Haxorus turned his head.

To stare at John?

No... to mistake Haxorus staring into his eyes only was a stupid idea. But it sure seemed Haxorus' red eyes met John's blue, like Haxorus knew something too terrible for public knowledge, but too important otherwise. Haxorus knew something about John, something big.

But John's only big secret was his humanity, and Haxorus would have no reason to know of John's origins. Still, John kept them secret, unwillingly. Who'd believe him? To get ahead, you had to learn when to keep information close to yourself, and when to give it out.

Several years ago, if he could reminisce, his older brother gave him valuable advice.

"You see John," he said while mixing the soup, "I get places one way. If you're gonna get anywhere at all, what you're gonna have to do is give people what they want. And it's going to be hard. You can't be yourself in this world anymore, and maybe you never could be. I think it's a giant sham to keep the majority back. You notice those people who care too much about their identity, public image, and being themselves? They don't get anywhere, they're only leaving angry comments on internet videos about Cubones getting their heads stuck in logs. You wanna follow the big people, and give them everything they want. There's no more room for the small people. There's only room for those who know what to say at the right times at the right places."

John kept resurrecting old lines that, at one point seemed useless if slightly inspirational for their archaic time. But time's alchemy made verbal gold of the wisdom from his family.

He remembered his mom. "People want things in exacts. This isn't me saying this cause I worked in construction. That's what helped me understand it. But the thing is people want exactly what they want, and no one wants to bargain. If you're gonna make a deal with someone, you better have everything they want because people are selfish nowadays. There's no such thing as a compromise anymore."

He even thought of his little brother, Bobby's, wisdom. "I think school's stupid. I could learn everything from video games if I wanted to."

And Dad. "Remember, never spank a Skarmory."

...What DID that mean?

He relaxed when he noticed Bolt and Torchic talking about whether Pecha berries or Oran berries were better. They didn't seem to mind all the commotion. Maybe it didn't matter.

Haxorus passed the bracelets around and everyone took one. And as soon as they did, Haxorus made his final speech.

The Guildmaster proclaimed, "From this moment onward, the competition begins! No rules besides survival of the fittest! Destroy other teams, and don't get destroyed! Let the war begin!"

John tensed. Would everyone run forward, or would there be hesitation? Time fell into a vacuum as no one dared to take a step in the first millesecond, but within the next dozens he could hear war cries and rampaging. Bolt got on all fours and ran while John jumped forward with Torchic not far behind.

No more sound in the entire area besides that of Pokemon screaming and stampeding. All Pokemon would blur together, but John stuck to his friends. Or he'd try to, because an errant root snagged him barely a minute into the adventure, tripping him up and causing him to fall face-first.

"Oof!"

John stared at his leg binding before jabbing into it with his claws, causing it to bleed whitish fluids. Take that, inferior plant!

He would sit up only to find Bolt and Torchic left him in the stampede.

...Great.

* * *

Author's notes:

This is a shorter chapter because there's not much meant to happen yet, as it's going to build-up the following chapters. Each five chapters is practically an arc (well, the first four were more of an arc and this is more a prelude to an arc, but I digress), and the next arc coming up is the "Initiation Arc". Our current arc is the "Homecoming Arc". Every fifth chapter will be either longer or shorter than average (average being between 2500 - 3500 words.)

To counteract the waiting problem, I won't be releasing this chapter until next arc's already written up, meaning there'll be more regular installments, fortnightly.


	6. The Scum of the Earth

Chapter 6: The Scum of the Earth

* * *

 _Azrah sent his queen out to capture Ho-Oh's bishop._

 _"This early?" she asked._

 _He said, "It's best to be forceful early on."_

* * *

Rational, John knew his team didn't intentionally abandon him. With the giant stampede, who would notice his tiny self? The rational thought reigned in his mind. But mix that with several emotional parts of wondering whether he had a good relationship with his new friends remained ever-so present, creating a compound of irritation towards both himself and them.

Surviving alone in the woods proved more severe issue-wise, but he didn't uncover any enemy Pokemon. The most powerful Pokemon in the vicinity of the bioluminescent forest were Caterpies.

"I can do this," he repeated under his breath while trekking the thinning dirt trail escorting him up a mound. For a few minutes. Legs stabbing him, threatening him to rest, he retired by a log. John desired, no, needed a way to find his team.

Climbing, without question, proved his most useful asset. But supposing he got to a tree's top, he'd need x-ray vision to see Torchic and Bolt with leaves obscuring his line of sight.

Maybe he could smell them? He was a Dragon-Type. Everyone said Dragon-Types had a good nose. Personally, he never noticed more smells compared to his previous existence, but to be fair, he never took a good sniff. He inhaled with his nostrils, trying to intake the nearby scents.

Forest scents rushed into his nostrils, and confused him the first second with their varying scents. Putrid scents, like spoiled milk, stank the joint up only a few yards away, meanwhile he could also smell the fragrance of flowers. But their intensity rendered them sickly in scent, nauseating John instead. Add dirt and dust, and the new irritation in his nostrils - either he sniffed too hard, or wasn't used to it - and John became overwhelmed by his newfound natural ability.

But he did capture scents of Pokemon. The odor of something gross behind him, and it was approaching him. Meanwhile, for the other dozen scents, the ones he thoughts might've been friendly would be the chicken scent. Bolt's scent remained unrecognizable.

Eyes returning from normal size due to dilation, John stood. He walked in his acquaintances' direction, but despite his brisk pace, his peripherals caught a blur. One that stopped him, forcing him to examine the creature upon a branch. A giant white bird, at least three feet tall, with golden markings on its wings. Bright blue eyes adorned its head, which aimed at John.

The creature didn't seem Pokemon, but if it was, it wasn't menacing. John put his paws up in a warning gesture. Never knew.

"John."

That voice came elsewhere. John swiveled his head to locate the source. No other organisms around, but it sounded like headphones, like it was inside his head. Maybe a Psychic-Type?

"John is here."

John realized the telekinesis had little merit threat-wise. Doubting the bird was Psychic, he thought. Only, like, two Pokemon knew who he was beyond initial meetings. If he added the rebellion leader, or Haxorus, or Team Breaker-Ice, he accounted no Psychic-Types, so unless they had other means of telepathy...

He slid his head forward, at the white bird, locking eyes with her (at least the voice sounded vaguely feminine).

"If you can speak, what are you?" John asked.

She answered. "Spirit. A Spirit."

Spirit? A synonym for Ghost. Playing safe, John blasted the Spirit with Dragon Rage, bathing her in blue flames. She shrieked, then exploded into white particles.

Wait, who was she talking to with the whole "John is here" message? She implanted the message in his head, so that must've meant her telekinesis was like a broadcast. Everyone nearby heard it. The stilted syntax implied a lack of intelligence.

John resumed his walk, a new lesson ingrained of not attacking without all answers from the enemy. Maybe he'd write that lesson down. In a notebook. Pink, with some orange splotches.

"John is here."

Behind him. Feminine. Sultry. Within a second, a Seviper coiled John, and put their snouts together. His reflexes had nary time to kick in, leaving him with the option of giving a dumb look. Kickstarted, his brain informed him of optimal screwedness. Unnecessary adrenaline flooded his system as his heart convulsed.

A Zangoose and older Seviper came up from behind.

"What are you waiting for?" the older Seviper asked. "Take him out."

"Don't know, he's kinda cute," the younger said while staring into his eyes. "He has beautiful blue eyes."

John gulped. That Spirit gave away his presence, or they smelled him out.

"He could clean up some Spectres for us, too!" the younger added before uncoiling. She slipped her tail between his legs so he could ride on her back. "My name is Melody, by the by."

The older Seviper grimaced at John, and he shrunk like laundry. "Don't be quick to let a potential enemy run free. If you don't want to do this, I will!"

The Zangoose shook his head. "C'mon, Melanie. Let her have her fun with the kid. Besides, they're both the same age, and do look kinda cute together."

Melody snickered while John blushed. He was terrified about this group beating him up at any point, and perhaps after throwing him to Spectres. The embarrassment originated from the idea of being Melody's new boyfriend. Meanwhile, abandonment to this situation spurred his irritation. Hopefully his friends were okay, but had been injured in some way that, while not impeding them, left a pain that lasted a long time.

* * *

"Guess we lost him," Bolt said, sat down by the cliff side. They spent the first ten minutes running, the next five gazing at nature. The trees pulsated vibrant glows of all colors, and some of them grew tall enough to nearly graze their feet.

Torchic plopped down next to him, eyes half-lidded.

"What's the matter?"

"I thought teams stuck together. He could get hurt. Or worse, he could faint."

Bolt rested his chin on his paw. "We have to get him, but that could take a lot of time."

"We don't get him, we do not get a team." Simple logic of children.

Bolt, for once, thought tactically. If they waited a year, they could start again with a different team member than John. Obviously that option was off the table, if only because neither of them were patient enough for that. Besides, John was kinda interesting. Sure, he didn't know many customs, but he was somewhat silly. Dorky, maybe. The second option was to get back John, but lose a lot of time. The third option was to go to the Obsidian Caves, and hope John came. Possibly by using scent, John could discover a trail to them.

"We have to go get him. He's too precious to survive alone," Bolt said. "And after we get him..."

"If we do."

"Don't talk like that," Bolt said. "It reduces morale."

"Morals, Bolt."

"No, it's morale."

"No, it's flor-al!" Before Team Plasma registered the voice, a Solar Beam blasted Bolt, burning his flesh and pushing him down the cliff.

Bolt gripped onto a ledge with one paw, and looked over.

Torchic gawked at the source, and watched a familiar Bulbasaur and Totodile walk out from the bushes. Wasn't that the Totodile Bolt fought with a few days ago?

The Totodile shot the Bulbasaur in the face with a Water Gun. "Puns out, Guns out."

Delilah shook her head. "Sorry, Sarah, but it was a good pun, you have to admit."

Sarah growled, and snapped her jaw. "No puns are good!" She faced Torchic, making the little chicken sweated slightly. "Where's the moron?"

"Sounds like my cue." Bolt pulled himself up and jumped into the air. An orb of dark and bright yellow formed at his tail-tip. He batted the Electro Ball with his tail, spinning it to the spot inches ahead of Sarah. The explosion launched her into the air while she screamed.

Torchic capitalized her advantage. When Delilah checked on Sarah, she launched Ember at the Bulbasaur. Delilah winced as tiny balls of fire struck her side.

Sarah stood and shouted, "That's it!" Water manifested around her person, a sign of future of a future Aqua Jet. Delilah shot powder from her bulb, which Sarah inhaled. The Totodile's eyes drooped before she collapsed several seconds later.

Team Plasma blinked at Delilah, watching her smile. "If only she thought before attacking."

* * *

Spectres lurked towards John at zombie-like pace. Only several yards away, he still felt he had plenty of time.

Melody had set him down to fight the Spectres and he felt stupid. Who'd be afraid of these slow sludge like monsters? His Absol savior could take one down easily. With the ease of the task at hand, John felt empowered to fight.

"Never seen a horde this big," the Zangoose, who John discovered to be "Zak" during one of the numerous conversations the team had, said.

John did. In fact, how could it be considered an overpopulated herd with only seven? He already faced a mob of dozens, maybe even a hundred.

He burned the closest one with Dragon Rage. No effect. It slunk past the flames. John took a couple steps back, launched a second Dragon Rage. The beast didn't slow.

John stepped back to Zak's area, prompting the Zangoose to spring forward with Crush Claw. He pierced the Spectre hard enough that his hand went into the abdomen, and came out the back. The Spectre wailed like a tortured prisoner before collapsing into sludge.

The two Seviper sisters lacerated the others, even decapitating a couple. Dozens more came to replenish stock, covering the horizon with tar-like beasts.

"Where are they coming from?" Melanie demanded as she nearly bisected one.

The hulking monstrosities came from every depth of the area. The constant rustling of trees and leaves alerted the four's collective attentions to the exponentially increasing mob.

John, smart enough to realize the situation, turned tail and ran. He could've sworn he heard the trio shout for him, but he didn't care. His legs tensed and the bottoms of his feet barely grazed ground before being used to push him forward. The little Pokemon arched his back, threw his arms to the wind, attempting to streamline himself for speed. TV told him he'd be faster.

As his arms and legs went weak and sore, and his chest hurt, he slowed his run to a jog to a walk to a halt. John collapsed onto his front. It took several breaths before he could function again. Taking a deep sniff of the area, he smelled a concentration of rotten garbage hundreds of yards away. Maybe more. Good, more time to kiss his cute new tail goodbye.

The fried chicken smelled closer. Also he sniffed others smells. One smelled distinctly of flowers, different than neighboring ones. He found the third scent familiar when coupled with the fried chicken scent, so he assumed he got Bolt's scent (who he would inform needed an immediate bath).

Then a final scent, one only a bit off his path. Avocadoes. He could go for a snack.

He sat up, before rising to his feet. Each step afterwards required a bit more effort than usual. John checked the tree, sniffing lightly, and got Vine Whipped on the nose.

"Who are you!?" A Snivy hissed. The little snake had a deep gash on his side. Not fatal, to John's shallow knowledge, but certainly bad.

John put his paws up. "I'm John. I'm only an Axew." He leaned his head closer to the ruby wound. "How'd that happen."

The Snivy looked down. "My partner and I got separated when Spectres came at us. There was three of them, if you can believe it."

"I can," John said, looking towards the clouds.

"Wait, you're that one Axew, aren't you? The one who got mobbed by Spectres a few days ago?"

Am I famous? John thought.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his head, right beneath the horn. "I feel like a magnet for them, somehow." At least, he figured he had to be a magnet. Or the problem got worse with his arrival. Wait...

The Snivy asked, "Can you handle them? I need someone to find my partner. And maybe some medicine."

Mind reeling back from discovering a connection between himself and Spectre mobs, John's remaining capacity doubted he had time for someone else. Sure, it'd be nice. But with maybe forty or thirty minutes left, it wasn't a wise investment.

On the other paw...

A bigger group meant superior protection, particularly from Team Peace. And other Elimination Teams. It could take them less time to trailblaze, with Torchic and him providing the actual blaze.

"Yeah, I can help you find your partner," John said.

The Snivy nodded and said, "Her name is Holly. She's a Tangela. I don't know where she went, and Tangela's don't have much of a scent on them."

"Okay," John said as that made things ten times harder. He may have to ditch. "Also, I smelled some avocadoes around here."

The Snivy blushed. "Snivies have Avocadoes as a close relative."

"They are?"

"Yeah, that's why Snivy tail-leaves are so good for your skin and- Wait a second! Get off your butt and find my friend!"

"Fine, you snot," John spat back. By this point, who hadn't been rude to him? Ironically, the Spectres.. The worst they did was interrupt him. For the rudeness, John figured it morally acceptable (and understandable) to search for his "friends" first.

The forest, as John ascertained, must be boreal, as the constant chills and tree-types informed him. Learning about types of biomes was a phase he underwent. Perhaps in this world, it'd serve him nicely.

Taking the path of least resistance, he walked past any shrubs and kept at least three feet away from trees in case Spectres lunged for him. Spectres were obviously resiliently, because if he was simply weak, he wouldn't have destroyed a Spirit so easily.

Or maybe Spirits were wimps.

Disregarding the thought to preserve his slight amount of dignity, he trudged on. High hills didn't bother his new form.

At the top of a hill, he sniffed deeply. More aromas of flowers and shrubs, smells of Spectres and Poison-Types, and the scents of fried chicken and rodent. John headed to the last of the three. However, he thought of something. What if he could ward the Spectres away from something by using himself as a lure?

He shook his head. It probably wouldn't work, and he'd have to try it later. No proof Spectres even wanted him anyway, as opposed to him being paranoid.

But if his friends didn't care much about leaving him behind. Would they force him to leave behind the Snivy and Holly?

He'd cross that bridge when he got there.

* * *

Elliot Riviluzione looked over the cliff. His team hadn't done poorly getting to the Obsidian Caves. Not that Spectres would bother them anyway.

For the final test, in the Obsidian Caves, there'd be three tunnels. Choose the right one, and you got into the guild. Choose poorly, and hopefully you corrected yourself before time ran out.

Honey the Garchomp stood behind him.

"Azrah said Hyperion Lust was here," Elliot said.

"Yes," Honey said, confirming as she waited for the Delphox and Bisharp of their group to appear. "Do mind he'll need coaxing."

"And you're sure he won't try to eat me?" Elliot asked.

"Positive."

Elliot took a deep breath.

"What are you waiting for, little one? Don't you want your power?"

Elliot clenched his fists as he stared down the third tunnel. His chest heaved.

"Reveal your use."

Elliot walked down the cave, with his flame illuminating part of the passageway. Within ten minutes, he would approach the maw of a cave, and warm air blew on him. That was where the beast roamed, and the prison from which it needed to be freed.

The creature's stupidity, for lack of better word, prevented it from seeing in the darkness, to where Pokemon were. Most Spectres had to use their sense of smell, but this part of the caves had been so abandoned that no scents came to it.

Elliot used Ember to light up the room and a giant hand smashed open the small maw of the cave.

Honey appeared behind Elliot and said, "Look at what you've unleashed. Isn't it glorious?"

The creatures kept climbing out in its goo-like form. As black and sludgy as tar, and it kept breaking parts of its cage.

"And this will kill Ho-Oh's servant," Elliot said, doing his best not to trip over the word "kill".

"Yes," Honey cooed. "Yes."

"...Good."

* * *

Author's notes:

I think I kept my promise somehow! It's only been two weeks!

Originally, this chapter would be vastly different.

In the very first draft, when Bolt and Torchic meet Delilah and Sarah, Sarah was supposed to knock Bolt off a cliff along with her. Both of them would get stuck in the web of an Ariados. I deemed this as possibly cliche, particularly if they got them instant friendship. On the plus side, the chapter was named "Hanging Out".

In the next draft, John would save himself from Team Peace by trickery. He would pretend to get struck by a Spectre, then pretend to Faint. Team Peace would continue to fight the good fight and he'd sneak away. He would also lure the Spectres towards him at some point.

Otherwise, most of the main ideas have been followed, except that Elliot was supposed to have a Gardevoir and Gallade as his team initially, possibly Shinies, but I deemed against it because Delphox and Bisharp fit the Theme of Azrah's minions better as you will see.


End file.
